[Heromux] A Money Mystery (Part 1)

Summary: Jo does some investigation

Location: Shield Helicarrier and Hackensack, New Jersey

Date: 09/05/14

Emitter: Croyd Crenson

Players: Jo Nah, Kilroy (in a security camera in disguise briefly)

NPCs: Jacob Schmidt, Yankee Conneticut

Groups: SHIELD

Tone: Classic, Social

Rating: Public

Direct 48124. It saved Shield quite an embarrassment. Maria Hill was none to keen on Shield investigating such 'easy' leads though she still wants them investigated. Word hasn't gotten out to the public yet, but in the federal law enforcement community folks are scrambling since it has been proven that the initial leads were merely a trap...but those that didn't fall for it, have SOMEHOW received leads of massive amounts of financial data for the cases they really are investigating. Its invaluable. But another trap?
Jo wants to know who is behind this, and what their motivation is. He was raised on Rimbor, a planet originally founded by criminals robbing the graves of a forgotten civilization. Crime is something he knows, and while he has been a hero for years now, suspicion is still second nature for him. Someone needs to investigate the source of this information, and an independent investigation is less likely to be compromised.
Jo starts with the physical letter, and with the report on the investigation he is sure has already been done so he does not go over the same territory. Just possibly he might notice something they missed.
The letter in question is in the evidence vault. Jo Nah has enough clearance to gain access to it. Everyone wants to find the source. There is a file with relevant information to be read if he chooses of what has been learned so far. The letter itself reveals that the paper is natural and that there is an unusual chemical in very trace amounts on one small section of the letter that isn't on the others. It is possible that they missed it when sampling the paper and running chemical analysis of the ink, though it is not immediately apparent merely by vision what that chemical might be.
Jo calls attention to the section of paper with the abnormal residue. He takes a note paper and makes a note of the isomeric forms of the chemical before he sends it to the lab. The thing about his vision is he can not tell, for example, carbon from silicon because they have the same outer shell and form similar bonds. Well, he can guess, and guess fairly well, because the outer electron shell is a slightly different size, but there are occasions he can be wrong, so it is better to analyze it professionally. He places his notes in the casebook of his investigation and moves on to the scene.
While they are analyzing the chemical, Jo works on the trail of the data input. He is not the best data seeker in the world, but is as good as most professionals in this century, and has run into a few things in the future that might not have been thought of yet. He suspects that the data run is using stop bits and data transmission duplication for error checking. Data is often sent in triplicate and then checked against itself for errors. If someone is changing the stop bits only on some of the duplicates, it would be subtle to detect, but could possibly act as a code...
The analysis takes a few hours but they're impressed. "Wow. That vision comes in handy. Totally new chemical here. The paper was pretty normal as was the ink, but this chemical? That's an industrial glue only used in a few places in the US. We can narrow it down to the city even. Hackensack, NJ."
It becomes obvious that there is a pattern here. And Jo Nah is able to see some things that shield hasn't yet. The data change in the accounts isn't coming from anywhere. There are no ip traces, and yet the bank it comes from and the bank it comes to, sometimes a secure government facility, records it as legitimate. Each time, but only the last time. So somehow they add and then subtract a transaction with NO trace of computer manipulation. All security sweeps indicate that there is no hacking of any kind. Its driving the analysts bonkers. But Jo Nah DOES notice...the physical letters were all sent at once. He believes they were sent from multiple locations at the same time but the other messages were sent one at a time...as if someone had to physically travel to the location to make the alteration, even though no facility has a record of a break in.
The evidence would tend to indicate someone with a legitimate reason to be in the banks, such as a delivery driver on an armored car, or a bank inspector, or an insurance investigator. How the changes are being made he is uncertain, but if he runs through the security cameras he might notice if the same individual appears in multiple locations. He can key facial recognition software for the same search.
A normal person looking wouldn't see anything. But with the super speed, Jo Nah recognizes...something. The thing is, that the internal cameras only show one person in three locations that matches, which is significant but he doesn't appear in any of the other twelve. But he...doesn't...DO anything. He just shows up, makes a deposit into an account in one instance, reads a news paper in a chair for a few moments in another, and then just chats with a pretty bank teller in the third. Never goes near a monitor.
Three in twelve is hardly conclusive, but Jo flags the appearances for other investigators and then sets out to Hackensack New Jersey. It seems likely the suspect spends time there, Jo should be able to locate him if he is in the area. He wonders if the person is something like a technopath, able to interface directly with the bank computers at close range. That would hardly be the strangest power he has ever encountered.
The investigation of the person doesn't immediately turn up much. Certainly not at the post office. The residue does however get more results and it is likely the source in a single factory near the outskirts of town that makes tiny artisan brushes.
Jo heads over to the brush company. There is a chance someone there knows something, but also a chance it is only one of their customers. He will have to check in depth.
An examination from afar doesn't yield results per se. The guy in the bank isn't here. No one is whispering, "I am a bank robber" etc. But...there is one guy, in his late thirties who is reading a news article about the investigations and looks...nervous. But he doesn't look like anyone who was in one of the banks. Before doing closer, Jo reads the man's identification using his Penetra vision. That information goes in his case file before he lands behind an obstruction and walks slowly over to the nervous man. He addresses the man, "Good afternoon, a very interesting article, is it not?"
The man's name is Jacob Schmidt. He jumps nervously and then looks about. What the hell? He then spots the guy is shield and then looks more nervous. Hardly a master criminal here. "Er...yes. Yes it is."
Jo identifies himself, "My name is Jo Nah, I am with SHIELD. Earlier today, I discovered evidence that someone here, at this company, may know something about the investigation. Seeing you reading about it piques my interest. Perhaps you would like to talk about it?"
Jacob scratches his head,"How in God's name did you guys track down that letter? I did everything the guy told me to do..it seemed pretty fool proof. He's never asked me to do anything like that before."
Jo smiles, "I have a few tricks not common to most investigators. So, as far as I know, you have not done anything illegal, but perhaps you could introduce me to the person you are speaking about, and tell me exactly what he has had you do."
He shakes his head, "Never met the guy. Or guys. My grandpa, right after the war, comes home and is a wreck. Someone pays off his debtors and asks if he wants a side job doing some good. And it always seemed to be good, dropping money off to charities, random folks and the like. He just picked it up and delivered it. But...my grandfather could barely describe the guy, and I've never met him. All I have is this." He takes out a Gold Dollar, 1930 issue.
Jo studies the dollar and says, "So how are you contacted, and what, to the best of your recollection, has he asked you to do when?"
Jacob says, ""We never kept any log. That's part of the instructions. But the coin shakes, vibrates, like a phone does when he has a message, and then I flip it...heads or tails like morse code. It takes a while but he pays well. Its been hundreds of times, for the last sixty years. The letter I sent to SHIELD was the last one I sent. He paid me nice and said it might be the last time he contacted me for some time. If ever."
Jo focuses his ultra vision, checking to see if there is any kind of circuitry or other device he can detect that could create the effect described. Assuming he does not find one, he will say, "Keep a close watch on that coin, I need to discuss this with my superiors."
Director Fury especially, if this started in WW2, possibly he knows something.

[Heromux] Something is Wrong

Summary: Kilroy's battle with his father for the Trillion Dollar coin...never happens.

Location: Ft. Knox, KY

Date: 2014.08.01

Emitter: Kilroy Capital Conneticut

Players: Kilroy Capital Conneticut

NPCs: Cold Hard Cash, 8, Crime, Mnemosyne, President Socklight.

Groups: Magic and Mysticism

Tone: Dark

Rating: Restricted

Something was wrong. Kilroy was sure of it. The Economy kept bothering him in the back of his kind. Something tickling him, making him annoyed but he couldn't give it up. Why was he doing this alone? He remembered inviting allies, but...something. So why was he doing this alone?
Because he couldn't wait any more. His father was making his move. He had recruited the spirit of the Gold, Crime, who was probably the physically toughest of the spirits of that pantheon, and four or five super powered mercenaries. All Kilroy had was ...Kilroy. It was quite frankly, suicide, but he could destroy and recreate the coin from range if he could just get close to it...he also had been concealing the thing as best he could. His father had a good idea where it was, but not exactly. Concealing and detection were his strong points after all.
Still...something...was wrong.
He had asked....and.....and...who? He kept reaching for the memory but it wouldn't appear. Something was definitely wrong, but there was no more time.
The guy who worked at the mint had used the hypothetical plate that no one was supposed to use or know about, just in case the thing had been needed to satisfy the American debt. Except it had been felt, not just by Cold Hard Cash, but Kilroy and all of the other spirits of the Gold. Such a huge action created titanic magical ripples, even if most of the people in the waking world never felt it...
Kilroy presented his forged credentials at the door. He couldn't sense his father or the mercs which meant they had no money on them. He could still sense the coin though. They accepted the credentials, and he was escorted to the elevator. He was looking for a cubical in the offices on the fourth floor. Up and up the elevator went.
And it opened. The guard with him unleashed his assault rifle, and pointed at Cold Hard Cash, surrounded by Crime, Scrambledooble, Microbrain and Dispirited. A single wave of Dispirted's hand caused the guard to crash unconscious. Kilroy dove to the side and sent several pennies at near rifle speed at the group, causing cries of pain and disruption. Cold Hard Cash summon a Rai stone himself and CRUSHED the desk Kilroy was hiding behind.
But just as Kilroy was about to say something, a portal ripped in time and space and a flash bang of epic proportions was thrown through. Thick paralytic gas filled the room, and three figures emerged. The first, was a goddess. She couldn't be anything else, with thick blue hair, piercing golden eyes, and a toga. The ninja was dressed in topaz but otherwise dressed similarly to the ones who had defended some of his fathers assets, and the other guy was dressed in a business suit that might have been designed by some cheap sci fi show twenty or thirty years in the future.
Kilroy couldn't move. Neither could his father or his mercs.
"Well....hello there folks. I'll keep this simple. 8, grab the cash machine. You can dispatch the others."
Mnemosyne shook her head, "Not Kilroy. He stays."
"Of course. Of course. Did I not promise equitable dealings for all?" Socklight was the only real person here but he could pretend to deal with shadows just as much as the next person.
"Your nation has a history-"
"Tut tut. The cash machine is capable of generating REAL money, and this trillion dollar coin will be transferable into Nine Credits. It pays his debt, 'saves' this pathetic world, and lets you do your thing. We're all good. Lovely transaction."
8 grabbed Cold Hard Cash and slung him over his shoulder. He then poured acid out of his finger, dissolving Scambledoodle, Microbrain and Dispirited while they watched in paralyzed horror. Just as quickly as they arrived, President Socklight and 8 took the ATM, and vanished.
Mnemosyne walked up to the paralyzed Kilroy and shook her head, "I thought we'd disposed of you a long time ago Veolus. But here you are, popping up again. You were the most popular deal I ever made. The fates were very grateful customers. But, tut tut, it hardly matters. What does matter is that here the story changes. There is no trillion dollar coin, the thousand year surge never happens, corporations never walk the earth, your pathetic team of allies never assaults the Nine Prime Worlds....and you never find out your true nature. The only reason we haven't been able to kill all of you, is because you're favored by an Endless. But that's alright. You've managed to kill yourselves off for the most part. You're the most annoying though Kilroy. But I've made you my special project.
I'm only erasing just enough of your memory of this that you will know it has been tampered with...but something will be bothering you....go on...try to found out....I'm looking forward to it Mortal...I really am!"
.......
When he 'awoke' inside of Fort Knox, with no sign of his father and the Trillion Dollar Coin literally erased from the universe, Kilroy knew something was wrong. He still had his forged credentials and walked out with no one the wise. But something was wrong. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure his memory had been erased...but who...and how? And most important of all...why?
The first thing he did was contact Cable. X-force might have been inactive for weeks but still....and...he got no answer. Hadn't Xavin been one of the people who had agreed to help him? But....he couldn't remember...
The next thing he tried was Genosha. It had more telepaths per capita than any nation on Earth....he made several appointments...or...did he? He spent the better part of a week there. Appointments went unanswered. Had he gone to them? Had they found anything? There were logs on his phone but he couldn't....remember making the call. Did they remember anything? He kept calling but....
The emotional memory of the erased memories remained. So much work for so little return, even if the specific instances were no longer retained. Had they returned his calls? Had they found anything? Did they remember? After a week, Kilroy no longer cared. He resigned his commission and walked out, being perfectly content to never see the island again.
.......
Fortress 24 was not THE most secure dimension the 9 Prime possessed, but it was more secure than anything a million worlds in any direction. It wasn't Apokalypse, but it was pretty damn close. And the Economy wasn't going to get upset that one of its priests had been shanghaid. After all, he was Perfectly Happy.
President Socklight smiled at the headband that stimulated Ascot's pleasure center every time he obeyed a Real Person. "So, every time a world window opens, suck the wealth out of it, create another one of these delightful Trillion Dollar coins, and use it to make a block of Nine Credits. Can you do that for me Cash Machine?"
"Sure Mr. Socklight..." Ascot said with the dumbest grin on his face, "Anything for you!"
"Good boy. Very good boy. Just as well that the Security Commission doesn't find out about the 10's on your world son. The Enemy is bad enough. We might be one of the most technologically advanced civilizations in existence, but its magic that makes the Real. Isn't that right Cash Machine?"
"Anything you say Mr. Socklight."
"Yes. Of course Cash Machine...."
.........
Mnemosyne smiled as she erased every encounter Kilroy had in the Oblivion bar with anyone who might help him with his memory. All the poor boy was left with was more disgust and another lost week. She doubted he'd trust another magician any time soon. Oh there was one or two she hadn't dared tamper with in the process, but they hadn't found anything. She was too good at what she did for them to find anything but a hole. And Kilroy already knew that. And he'd never follow up with them because as soon as they left, that memory was removed too.
She wasn't sure what long term consequences it might have on Kilroy...but she didn't care really. The deal didn't say anything about his memories, just his life. And he was still very much alive...smiling to herself, she stepped through the door and went home.

For the better part of a month and a half, an angelic guest had been     
  staying in the Hellfire Club in Manhattan. He had seen few, but been quite
  content to read the books and see the videos brought to him. One day     
  though, when food was brought, the being claiming to be an angel was gone.
  All that was left was a note. "My dearest Sebastian," it read, "All is   
  right with the world. There will be...some collateral damage, but rest   
  assured, the status is very quo, and all you and yours are now quite     
  protected. The disruption has been dealt with on a little side plan      
  between myself and Mammon. It's worked out perfectly wonderfully. God    
  bless Time Travel. I don't forget owed favors. Have a wonderful day.     
                                                                           
  -Providence."   

[Heromux] Of Gods and Men - Bastion

Summary: Brainwashed Assassins of the Mandarin assault the Bastion but there are heroes to save it!

Location: Bastion, Genosha

Date: 2014.07.26

Emitter: Merlin

Players: Thor, Sif, J'onn J'onzz, Vorpal, Gambit, The Invisible Hand

NPCs: Genoshan Cops, Genoshan Soldiers, Civilians, Brainwashed Mercs

Groups: The Justice League, Genosha

Tone: Heroic

Rating: Public

They had been playing on the roof top, in the garden. A God, a Goddess, and a pair of rambunctious god-children. No one expected Thor to suddenly go down when his son tackled his knees. Usually, the Thunderer would drift up, chuckling about how to best grapple an opponent while Sif flung grapes at his head and countered every suggestion as being made by someone too strong for his own good.
This time, Arnthor clamped around Thor's knees right as Thor's head turns toward Genosha, and down he went. He caught himself with his hands just before impacting the ground fully.
"Sif, get thy armor, and send the children to Volstagg's. Now," was all Thor had to say to get his wife moving and demanding the children not argue. Thor, armor summoned, had paced the garden until Sif returned.
"That way," Thor says, pointing with Mjolnir a mere ten minutes later, the Goddess at his side. A nod, and the two vanished from New York and flew/teleport-jumped to here.

Kilroy is in complex across from the tower called the Coleco. It's an administrative complex of the old regime, largely kept as a trophy and reminder of times gone by, which is why Kilroy also has his office there.

He has it largely to himself but it does have a magnificent view of the Spire. He's got more than a dozen monitors in his office, trying to figure out contingencies to keep the US economy afloat, trying to protect Genosha's economy if it crashes, and trying to track his father's moves and counter moves as they swarm around the Trillion Dollar Coin in Kentucky, like Samurai staring before a duel, each daring the other to draw first.

He opens a small minifridge, takes out a soda and walks to the balcony. There is so much to do. Maybe he should take a side kick or something. It worked for Batman. Money Lad? Economy Lad? Dollar Kid? He shuddered. Maybe he should get a costume that wasn't ridiculous first. He looked at the uniform he wore as the Invisible Hand, putting it on. It was sleek, black, with a simple slightly armored helmet. Why couldn't he just pay someone to design a costume for him? Yet that wasn't as practical in unexpected moments. He smiled when he realized he'd rather deal with economic imperilments than try to design a decent costume.
Something began to echo in Kilroy's mind. A stirring of leaves. A rustle of wind. The island itself almost seemed to groan. He looked up and about. It seemed like a warning...but...what...and where?

For his part, J'onn has...challenged Magneto to a game of chess. A game he knows he'll lose - J'onn is a fair player, but Magneto ranks as a Grand Master. But that, of course, is not the point of the exercise. The point is to find out what he can of what the arrogant Master of Magnetism might be up to. His flight towards Genosha, thus, is unhurried through the evening sky. As yet, he is not aware of any issues. He's heading straight for the tower, though, as the most likely place to find the man he seeks. Red cape trails behind him and, perhaps alerted, he starts to increase speed.

"Ha ha! Ol' Gambit wins again bitches!" It's always distasteful for a man in his thirties to do a victory dance. It's especially distateful for a man in his thirties to do a victory dance that's as exuberant and explicitly erotically-charged as the one that Gambit begins doing after throwing his cards down on the table at the smallish cafe that the locals have set up just far enough away from Bastion to not be interfered with.
However, it's most especially distasteful for a man in his thirties to do a victory dance when the opponents that he has defeated are a group of mutant kids between the ages of ten and fifteen.

"That's what you get when you challenge me to Uno, son! You get deese nuts..." His voice trails off and his victory dance slows to a grinding halt as something begins beeping on his arm. "Ah... son of a... guess I'll have to take the rest of your allowances some other time, my friends. Never grow up, people start expecting you to come a runnin' every time there's a crisis."

The man leans over the table, scooping up the handful of quarters and dollars that constitute the 'pot' and stuffing them in the inside pocket of his overcoat. "Later bitches. Gambit's out." With a dramatic swirl of his trenchcoat, and an equally-dramatic adjustment of his lapels, he walks in the direction of the spire.
As he walks off, the kids look at each other. "What a douche bag."

Vorpal tries not to get worked up about trends and rumors- not when the city creates ten rumors per every nugget of truth out there. Nevertheless, he had a hunch that this particular set of rumors was not something to be scoffed at. Call it Cheshire sense. Call it being attuned to chaos. Call it having an internet connection.
Thus, Vorpal is taking this particular patrol around the city very seriously. Just in case. You never know.
He does allow himself a little break, to sip the capuccino he had ordered when he paused. Man, you'd think those baristas had never seen a Cheshire in spandex before...

"Well... so far, so good. The sky hasn't fallen." He says, sitting on the edge of a rooftop and sipping his coffee.

The explosion shatters the tranquility of Genosha like a china plate breaking in a quiet shop. The first blast sends bodies and equipment flying from near the base of the Spire, the black tower that dominates the view of the city itself. Emergency crews are fast to respond- too fast. The second and third blasts caught them as they approached, each explosion more destructive than a cruise missile. Missiles fly up from the ground, pounding into the side of the Spire and blasting chunks out of the steel. It's some kind of terrorist attack, to be certain, one that seems to have caught Genosha completely by surprise. Of Magneto, there is no sign- only calamity and the sounds of gunfire filling the streets as from nowhere, mercenary-looking warriors start shooting indiscriminately. Explosions blossom across Bastion, much smaller but no less terrifying in scope.

Many of the attackers appear to be mutants themselves, attacking without discrimination in the ensuing panic. The Spire seems to be in no danger of collapse, but it has clearly been badly damaged, to the point that the second sun overhead of the city flickers out and Genosha's warmth dies, replaced by a cool North American ocean breeze that covers the island.

Kilroy is a minor member of the cabinet, though not the Secretary of Education. Still, his role is clear, and he reports in immediately. "Invisible Hand checking in to Battle Command. Who is in charge? I do not see the Imperorator or Quicksilver. Status? Instructions?" He doesn't wait for that of course. He can't. His own problems forgotten, he slides out at fifty miles per hour on a stream of invisible pennies, using an invisible Rai stone to shield fleeing civilians at the fringe of combat. He keeps an eye on buildings. Where there is one explosion, he expects many. "And who the hell are these guys?"

J'onn J'onzz doesn't wait for instructions, or to look for Magneto. He flies right into the tower, bent on pulling people out from within the structure. Some, no doubt, can fly on their own, but not all mutants are gifted with flight, teleportation, or any other power that might assist their escape. If the spire falls...well. He wants to make sure it's empty if it does, blurring with speed as he begins to rescue the civilian workers within. He'll set them down a good distance, as far as he can without wasting time, away from the incident.

With the Imperator gone and Quicksilver on mission, there are a few long minutes of chaos until one of the city watch leaders gets communications established. "We are sending a battalion to reinforce the civic guard!" comes the words to Kilroy. "Who /are/ these guys?" someone else demands over the radio. It devolves into meaningless chatter on the communications network as people scramble to respond to the attackers.

The moment they arrive and explosions start to go off, Sif moves. "The fires, Thor!" And then the Goddess is moving. More specifically, she's teleporting. Over and over to gete as many civilians out as possible.

Seeing J'onn, she calls out to him, "Can you find them?" Them being whoever has started this. Once she has a clear fix, it is a good idea simply to let her go. She is, after all, the Goddess of War for a reason.
In mid-strut, an explosion sends Gambit flying nearly thirty feet away. As he vaults through the air, only his kinetically-charged physique and his preternatural agility keep him from landing with his legs bent the wrong way. But as it is, the wind is knocked out of him and it takes him a few minutes to come back around and get his bearings.
As he stands up, he begins coughing uncontrollably to the point that he nearly doubles over. A hole has been rubbed all the way through the elbow of his coat and torn up the skin beneath, but he doesn't seem to notice or care.
He spits out a mouthful of blood and two broken pieces of teeth. But he doesn't seem to notice or care.
In the distance, he can hear more explosions and sounds of violence. He barely notices these, nor does he seem to care.
Instead, his attention is transfixed on the scene behind him. The cafee that he was in mere moments ago is now a smoking ruin. The roof begins to cave in as flames rapidly consume the hastily-constructed structure.
Mercifully, whoever was inside most likely died instantly.
The fires! Thor nods to Sif's words, lifting into the air as the Goddess teleports from civilian to civilian. High enouhg, th Thunderer lifts mjolnir up and summons rain, lots and lots of rain. say Get some Angels in here. Knowing who and wha...never mind. We've got a telepath. These guys are indiscriminate. Repeat. They are attempting to do as much damage as possible. Spread mobile assets out, do not concentrate forces too much, sweep for explosives. Expect more waves." He wishes now he'd taken the Trillion Dollar coin...he wouldn't have such limits on his power. He should have put the Bank of Genosha near the spire. Should have. Didn't. He puts the Rai stone between yet another fleeing woman with her child, unseen, Invisible as his name bespeaks, tracing any money these fools brought with them. Even a shred of it would give him a clue as to their identity. . o O "Mr. ManHunter...can you hear me? Who are these people? Battle Command is sending a battalion. Can you sense how many are still alive in the Spire?"
Kilroy says, "Get some Angels in here. Knowing who and wha...never mind. We've got a telepath. These guys are indiscriminate. Repeat. They are attempting to do as much damage as possible. Spread mobile assets out, do not concentrate forces too much, sweep for explosives. Expect more waves." He wishes now he'd taken the Trillion Dollar coin...he wouldn't have such limits on his power. He should have put the Bank of Genosha near the spire. Should have. Didn't. He puts the Rai stone between yet another fleeing woman with her child, unseen, Invisible as his name bespeaks, tracing any money these fools brought with them. Even a shred of it would give him a clue as to their identity. . o O "Mr. ManHunter...can you hear me? Who are these people? Battle Command is sending a battalion. Can you sense how many are still alive in the Spire?"
<< I can hear you. Hold on. >> J'onn is receiving two contradictory requests. He addresses the easiest first, the scan for living minds in the Spire, making a quick count of who might be in there and sending the data to Kilroy even as he continues to retrieve those closest to him. << One moment, Sif. >> He can multitask. He can't multitask *that* quickly. His calm, though, might be a positive influence on those around him.
For a while, the semi-injured Cajun has to fight the urge to run toward the building and try to save someone. Then he has to fight the urge to simply sink to his knees and wallow. But ultimately, the urgent beeping on his wrist communicator gets his attention long enough for him to come to his senses. Even though he's horribly suited for it, Gambit needs to be a soldier today.
As he collects himself, he begins heading toward the spire, which seems as good a place to head as any at the moment. Speaking into his communicator, he gets in touch with the closest contingent of troops available, barking orders in his French-tinged redneck accent. Within moments, he's fighting among a group of Genosha's finest, blowing the ever-loving shit out of some invaders.
The quick reponses from Thor and Sif start clearing civilians out, and Kilroy's direction to the city guard help direct the cops to where they are needed most. The tall building seems not likely in immediate danger of collapse, but if there is another salvo of rocket fire, that could change.
The rains put out the fires, keeping them from spreading, and Sif's quick thinking pulls many civilians from the fires inside the monument. Gambit's leadership immediately pulls together a beleaguered squad of soldiers, and turns the tide in one of the larger, more concentrated firefights that broke out.
Hanging it he sky, above the chaos, Thor surveys the area, directing the downpour to settle on the area, cloak it from outside eyes in hopes that whatever is attacking from without will loose line of sight and therefore be unable to continue the onslaught. But he knows too well that Midgardians are capable of long range attacks hitting their marks while blind, and so Thor waits, ready to act as anti-air defense system and prevent further aerial attacks.
And then? J'onn selects one poor soldier, goes into his mind and starts to rummage. Not that anyone would know this...including his unfortunate victim, but they might notice that, for now, he's stopped retrieving civilians. Oh, and he's also not looking at the burning remains of the cafe. Nope. Not looking. If he doesn't look at it, it's not real. Right?
As he steps over the uniform of a soldier that has his head blown off by a frightened Telekinetic, he examines the uniform for insignia. Clues. But above all, his gut tells him this is not the end. Ambush is never a tactical advantage. And he stays to the shadows, both from habit and because he can do the most good that way. He remembers too well the habits of such individuals on First Responder. Kilroy intends to be a Second Responder. He examines the skies...listens to the ground, watches the seas. He focuses primarily on shielding civilians with the Rai stone, listening to chatter on all channels, trying to keep alert and aware.
Sif looks up at Thor. "Thor!" Her eyes shoot to J'onn and then back to the God. A silent 'keep an eye on him and get those damn fires out!'. And then, oddly enough, she pulls out her cell phone.
Even as she continues to pull civilians out, a number she has on speed dial is hit. She'll enter the battle itself in a moment. Once whoever she's calling answers, there's a simple bark of, "Genosha. Now!" And the line goes dead.
Another explosion goes off, sending the Goddess flying backwards. That would explain why the call suddenly dropped at that very least. Good thing she isn't as squishy as the mortals she's been saving.
Name called, Thor looks down. Electric blue eyes meet Sif's, follow her gaze, then recapture. He nods once and resumes his work. Fire fighter Thor rains on the bad guys' parade, and fires. And the explosion that knocked Sif back. thor does glance, does check on his wife, but does't rush to her aid. She's tougher than that little explosion. She'll be fine. Back to keeping at eye on Martian (or at least his body), and playing Bastion FD.
"Genosha? Wha---"
Vorpal stares at his cell phone and tries to redial Sif. No answer. "Well, eff me." He gets up quickly from the side of the building, his coffee tumbling over the edge and plattering on the pavement below as he reaches for his JLA comm and calls for a lock-on. As he prepares, he has to wonder what the hell is going on in Genosha. And then, to Thor and Sif, << I know who's behind this. >> At that point, he'll fly further from the fire, because he wants to be a long way from the fire. Another planet would be about right, but he doesn't have that luxury. Instead? Instead he sends a nice blast of psionic energy at the various soldiers. << Also, they're brainwashed. >> Which is why the blast of psionic energy is basically? Zzzzzzzzzzzz.
Sif pushes to her feet. "Of course they are," is muttered under her breath and makes the mental note to incapiciate without killing. She waits only a few heartbeats, enough time for her to take out a few of them before she rolls her eyes and looks up J'onn in annoyance. << Well?? Going to share?? >>
"Vorpal should be on his way!"
Kilroy uses the Rai stone to prevent rubble from falling from the second explosion on one of the cops digging out survivors. He remains hidden.
Brainwashed. Lovely! Thor presses his lips together as shoves a wind gust toward some soldiers, still on their feet, before they can do any more harm, while dialing down the temperature on the rain. He'll tug some of the wintery air from the polar cap north of here to start to turn the rain to slush, seeking to quickly put an end the heat of the flames.
Eventually, Vorpal manages to make it to Genosha via the Watchtower's systems. It helped to know that the Manhunter was already there, so he could use his general position as a reference.
Except not so high up.
Fortunately, he's got better luck with beams than with shuttles, and he appears.
In the middle of a war, apparently.
"What on earth---" he only has a split second, as nearby warriors focus their fire on someone who had basially appeared announcing 'shoot me!' due to his bright colors and his method of appearing. He throws up a shield to duck behind while he thumbs his comm "J'onn, what on earth happened here? This place looks like hell!"
<< Major terrorist attack >> J'onn sends to Vorpal. << Brainwashed. I'll talk more later. >> To Thor and Sif he supplies only the name. << Mandarin. >> Maybe they've heard of the man, maybe they haven't, but he's a terrorist and a crimelord, a dangerous individual even without extra...brainwashed...minions.
Dozens of soldiers simply crumple in a heap at J'onn's mental command. Others are sent flying or staggered, enough that groups like Gambit's can clear them out effectively. The tide is turning in the ground battle, as the heroes all coordinate their efforts and throw the full measure of their weight into the fray, putting the brainwashed mercenaries on the defensive as they reclaim the battle-damaged city.
"Mandarin... like the orange?" asks Thor as he continues coating the fire ravaged portions of the city with a heavy coating of slushy almost snow and freezing rain in between batting brainwashed soldiers about with near hurricane fore winds.
The name is familiar to Sif but she has never had direct dealings with the being herself. It's something she'll make a point of looking into later. For now, she's busy knocking out as many of the soldiers on the ground as she can, once more putting that speed and teleportation to use. It irks her that, for all she can gather, the attack was... pointless. It was an attack just for the sake of attacking. That doesn't settle well with her.
Kilroy keeps shielding and keeps listening. One soLdier seems more determined than others to attack three weaker mutants with limited movement, Kilroy finally shell shocks him with an improvised bullet and a plasma shot flashbang. Quipu ties him up and he moves on.
Between the mercenaries and Gambit, it'll be a minor miracle if there's a cubic inch of Genosha left that hasn't been at least partially exploded. It's not long before the group is setting up position around the spire, while the mutants do their best to secure what is clearly the most important structure on the island. The group has taken heavy losses though, and Gambit himself appears to have taken quite a few hits himself.
<< A terrorist and crimelord. This would be entirely within his MO, although he will pay a price when Magneto finds out. >> And who's going to tell him? Probably J'onn...setting the two on each other doesn't strike him as a bad idea at all.
Vorpal frowns. Brainwashed? Aw, great. That meant he couldn't take his anger out on them, since they were really not responsible for what they're doing. Some might say he wasn't too savy on what he was doing, considering that of all the heroes he could see here, he was the least powerful and not quite apt to take on entire squads by himself.
"Alright, ye bastards, it's time to play Jumanji!" Dissolving the shield, he becomes invisible and floats upwards, summoning a fifteen-foot tall construct in the shape of a gigantic bowling ball, which then begins to race its way towards the mercenaries.
Vorpal goes bowling for terrorists and smashes the last of them to the ground, breaking what remains of the final dug-in contingent. The local police show up and start arresting terrorists at gunpoint- shooting the ones who fight back. Genoshan cops are apparently hardcore about resisting arrest. With the aid of Vorpal and Gambit breaking the back of the terrorist defense, and Thor and Sif and J'onn saving civilians, it seems the day is won. Burned and battered, but still standing, it seems Bastion has survived the unexpected assault that rocked the city.
"Aye, though Magneto shall have a strong right arm to assist him," declares Thor as he finds J'onn and lands at his side. The Thunderer knows that Sif will appear next to him when ready.
As the men drag the prisoners away, some of the stronger telepaths have already begun to try and root out the identity from the men. It is buried deep, but the image within the brainwashed masses is not, for he is the one who commands them. He has them begin looking through their databases to find who has done this, but as the chaos around him continues, he helps out where he can. Most had some form of cash on them so he is able to dig them out.
As he moves through the rubble in the explosions, he says, “Conduct a complete inventory. They were after something. Find out what it was. This wasn't just a random attack. Whoever did this had an agenda.” As he approaches the rubble, he spots a small iron box that immediately brings back memories. The memento room. Grabbing the box, he heads back to the Coleco.
At least that was salvaged. But what else might they have taken? Secrets? Technologies? Or did they simply want to disable the power source for the island?
Who was this ten ringed man...and what did he want?

[HeroMux] A Conversation After Hours

Summary: Kilroy attempts to warn the Stock Exchange about Mystique's plan of attack, and is rebuffed.

Location: The New York Stock Exchange.

Date: 2014.07.24

Emitter: Kilroy Capital Conneticut

Players: Kilroy Capital Conneticut

NPCs: The New York Stock Exchange

Groups: Magic and Mysticism, Genosha

Tone: Gritty

Rating: Public

"Hello?" Kilroy slipped down from one of the quarters near the Stock Exchange. Not EVERY spirit of the Gold was awakened enough to speak to, but here in the nexus of the heart of capitalism? This one sure was. He could feel the power of the place. "Mr. Stock Exchange?"
"Cursed One. Surge Bringer. Surge Bearer." It moans and slowly a pair of two ephemeral heads manifested themselves, a bear and a bull, speaking in unison hovering above the desks, golden eyes flickering, "What do you want? Why are you not seeking the artifact?"
"I am. I know where it is. I've got people dealing with that. I want to speak to you about something else." He put his hand behind his head and idly kicked a small waste bin full of paper tabs.
"You have no respect. Your father had respect. Your grandfather gained the respect of the Economy just by being. You are nothing. Speak your peace and go mortal."
"Someone is threatening you. Externally. I wanted you to be alert."
"I'm a spirit. Better villains have tried to destroy us and failed. We are hundreds of years old. Scamper along little priest and find the coin. You have better things to do."
"Look, this is a serious threat."
The horns of the bull came close to Kilroy's chest, "He received our invocation to be a hero. You have not. You will not. Go away Kilroy."
And with that the two sparkled and fizzled out.
He didn't want to think about the coin....but it wasn't going to solve itself. He sighed and left the building.

[Heromux] Higher Stakes

Summary: Mystique almost foils CHC's trap for her but for three minutes and a screwdriver. Hope saves her...but it won't save Cold Hard Cash from her revenge.

Location: The High Seas

Date: 2014.07.16

Emitter: Kilroy Capital Conneticut

Players: Raven Darkholme, Axiom

NPCs: Adara, Cold Hard Cash

Groups: Magic and Mysticism

Tone: Heroic

Rating: Public

It's a trap. Of course its a trap since almost everyone involved in the original flight of the Excelcior was arrested or fined. So many avoid, but many others are interested in the idea of Crimecoinz. Still, the attendance by heavy hitters; either heroic or government or criminal is lighter this time around, a lot of B listers with some exceptions. The airship is bigger, more luxurious with a single cabin for anyone on board that is exceptionally luxurious filled with all kinds of high tech comforts you wouldn't expect on a commercial liner. The casino is already running full bore, and there is no 'zero hour' where the host is expected. Folks are just playing games with the odd little chips.
As for Kilroy, this time around, he's here as himself. Given that he thought he owned this company now and saw nothing of this ship on the asset list, and given that he knows his father is back from the dead, he's expecting the unexpected.
Just fashionably late, Mystique arrives for the airship in the guise of a blonde socialite. She highly doubts that their host is going to be fooled, but there's no reason to alarm the rest of the guests now, when they might be more usefully alarmed later in the evening. She arrives with a pistol in her handbag and a knife elegantly camouflaged as part of a filigree pattern on the back of her daring couture gown. She's got a few more tricks up her -- well, she's not wearing sleeves -- but those will do if the airship's security needs something to produce in a frisk or metal detector.
She spots Kilroy immediately as she heads into the game room and greets him with a nod. She's a little relieved to see that Loki isn't present, although the absence of blustery heroes like Stark means she'll have to work for it if she wants a proper distraction.
Forces are in motion tonight. Both good and bad. One of those forces is the cosmic embodiment of hope itself. Adara isn't on the air ship though. No, it's not near but it's out and about tonight. Somewhere out over the ocean, this cosmic force is searching out where exactly 'hope is in danger'. Of course it's doing a little idle ocean cleansing and wildlife restoration too but cosmic forces can multitask.
Kilroy isn't sure who he's nodding to, but nods in return. He does know Mystique might be here, but she could be anyone. Moreover, given his father's vote to hurt and curse the four who saved him before, he's not expecting them to show up. He doesn't try to disrupt the ritual this time. It's too large and the last fiasco took months of cleanup. With talk of a 'surge' likely to happen to the Gold this time around, he's playing it very careful. He wanders in and out of the tables and finally sits at one of the bars, sipping some wine. Waiting. What is his father up to?
Mystique gives a disappointed little flutter of her eyelashes as Kilroy doesn't see through the disguise. She briefly considers making her presence more obvious, but eventually settles on remaining a wild card. If he has some sort of plan to stop his stubbornly living father, she'll probably pick it up faster and be in a better position to hurry it along if she just watches rather than waiting through a tiresome explanation. Instead, she attaches herself to one of the better-looking high rollers in the room, feigning fascination with his barely coherent explanation of a game she already knows back to front. Her eyes are devoted to him; her attention is anything but.
Kilroy is not an expert but the annoyance on her face is uniquely Mystique. He's seen it way too many times and is about to approach when she suddenly goes in a different direction. He doesn't break her cover but he does place himself near her.
And just as suddenly, Mystique would feel a chill, a spell being cast on her but followed by an immediate second spell. The booze begins to flow quicker, tongues wag wider, and bets are being placed at a much faster pace. Kilroy is not an expert but the annoyance on her face is uniquely Mystique. He's seen it way too many times and is about to approach when she suddenly goes in a different direction. He doesn't break her cover but he does place himself near her.
Mystique takes a wobbly step backward from the table, one hand going to her neck. It's a bit of an overreaction, but it does give her a better point of view on the room, and her wild eyes give her the opportunity to scan for the goddamned mystic that is trying to toy with her. With a bit of luck and a tottering yank on her high roller's bespoke blazer -- which she is only too happy to provide -- it might even disrupt the game a bit and slow down whatever gambling-based mysticism their host is attempting.
Kilroy looks strained. His father is already more powerful than he is, but Kilroy is more clever. Rather than a stronger blessing to counter the curse, Kilroy goes old school and surrounds Mystique with a circle of salt. Instantly, the curse is kept at bay. That won't work too good on a Rai stone to the face, but for now Cold is checked.
Kilroy slips in on the other side of Mystique and whispers, "Don't move. The ward only works if you stand still."
Jeebers McJosephat the shipping magnete looks at Kilroy whispering to the blond but doesn't say anything.
"Stand still? That's your advice?" Mystique hisses back. "Suppose I want to stab someone? Purely hypothetically, of course." More loudly, she says to her erstwhile companion, "I'm so sorry, I think all that talk of numbers has given me a bit of a headache. You don't mind if I stand back here for a moment?"
No one else notices but Mystique could, upon moving slowly, sense a circle of salt on the floor. This, by itself is not that weird, but the fact that it MOVES as she moves is a bit of an eyebrow raiser. "I'd stab them very slowly."
Jeebers coughs and nods,smiling sweetly,"Of course." He glares daggers at Kilroy. The up roarous behavior continues, faster and faster. People almost move as if sped up.
Freed of the high roller's attention, Mystique glances downward with a slight twist of her lip. "I don't like being pinned down," she says. "Not even slightly. Is this frenzy what's causing the inconvenience?" She twirls a finger, indicating the entire gaming room. "Because I'll be only too happy to break up the party if necessary."
Kilroy considers how much to mention, but she saw him before. "There is a ritual...creating a powerful currency but ...faster than last time...with more power. I want to stop him but don't dare. There is some kind of 'surge' thing so messing with the ritual might make things worse, but not messing might be worse. He's blessing the economic activity here in the extreme, and cursing you. I've countered it but my ward," or salt...,"is hard to move with you. But..."
And just like that, everyone stops. Well, everyone else.
All of the tokens briefly glow and then vanish. Destroyed by Cold Hard Cash.
A video screen of Ascot's face appears on the screen,"Hello folks. Thanks for helping me create a brand new currency that will come in handy for me. I'm afraid that's done now, so time for a bit of revenge."
Where is he? Kilroy isn't sensing him. His father actually has no money on him?
All of the mirrored surfaces in the room change to show Cold Hard Cash's face. "Reading the fiction of other timelines is amazingly handy. Especially the graphic novels. Shoot as many as you like. I'm already fifty miles away on a jet. I just needed you to finish the ritual. Oh, hello Kilroy. Shame really...but you see at this point I'm only getting revenge. You will find the ship encapuslated by a coalition forcefield...with a good old fashioned atomic bomb from Pakistan that will go off when I'm done talking to you. It's amazing what you can buy when you have all the time and money in the world."
The people in the lobby are running around panicking at this point. Kilroy sighs,"Move as you want at this point. I'll make sure the sa...ward follows you. I hope you have a teleporter?"
He should be angrier. He's just...tired at this point. It's...just childish. He begins to follow the money locally, trying to find if someone on the ship was paid to place the bomb without a lot of luck.
Kilroy looks about, "Where is it? I'm not finding it..."
Cold Hard Cash smiles,"Really? Well all I have to do is hangup and you go boom. No timer...no hope at all."
The audience has gone completely fruitloops at this point. They are running around with Kilroy stopping some of the worst accidents. But he is tracking down finances. He finally finds it. "There! It's right there under the roulette table."
"Excellent work my boy. Perfect timing. Did I mention no hope? Goodbye."
The screen goes off...the bomb primes and sets to explode.
"Lick my blue ass, you jumped-up accountant," Mystique says, putting her hands on her hips and facing the roulette table. She'll be damned if she loses her cool right at the end. Well, she's damned either way...
Oh, Mystique...you probably should have not said that about hope. Because hope is coming. Rather quickly in fact. There's a brilliant blue glow sighted from the windows and a hawk's cry before something punches through that forcefield like a bullet through a tissue. The glow gets brighter and then suddenly it's in the room, bathing everything in a sapphire light. For a moment, there's a huge bird-like figure in the room by that roulette table. The bird fades away to reveal the costumed hero Axiom, his costume far more blue than usual and sporting that lantern-like symbol. He's also glowing rather brightly. He offers a smile to the room and a feeling of general calmness, hope, and optimism starts to come from him. "All will be well," he offers, his voice sounding a tad more like Adara's than his own. The roulette table gets touched and vanishes to reveal the bomb and Axiom frowns. "This is the second one of these I've st-stopped..." now he sounds more like himself. Taking a deep breath, he lifts his hands and places them on the bomb and there's another bright blue flash. When it clears...no more bomb. In fact there's something else entirely.
A make your own sundae bar. With attached soda fountains for floats. Axiom lets out a sigh and then grins. "There w-w-we go."
Kilroy looks at the Sunday bar, looks at the bird, looks at Mystique in her blue form, and smirks. His father might have hung up....but he won't be happy when he finds out about this. Kilroy? He goes and has a Sunday.
Mystique's mind is not like other minds. Sure, she can feel the care bear stare Axiom is putting off, but she's just far enough off the usual psychic wavelength that she does so as a casual observer rather than a wholehearted participant. She narrows her brilliant golden eyes at the sundae bar and taps her fingers against her hip. "Three minutes and a screwdriver would have sufficed," she says coldly.
Axiom, glowing with Adara's power, brushes his hair back. He can't help the care bear stare...even if Eddie himself has no idea what a Care Bear is...it's just an effect of being so close to the cosmic force he's currently housing. He waves to Kilroy as he recognizes him but then his attention snaps to Mystique...and there's the creepy cosmic voice again. "The risk was too great. And hope burns bright. The being behind this has caused much harm, torn the hope from many. I had to act," Adara's voice speaks. There's a pause, Axiom shaking his head. "Umm...s-s-sorry to ice cream and run but there's something b-b-big trying to break into our dimension I have to go stop. See you," he offers, glowing blue wings spreading from his back and emitting another flash. When it clears, he's gone. But hey...free ice cream.
Mystique morphs herself a shoulder holster and stashes her pistol, safety back on. "You, I owe, much as it pains me," she says grudgingly to Axiom before he leaves. "So I suspect we will be seeing each other." As the beacon of hope vanishes, she turns to Kilroy with a sneer. "I assume you can steer this thing. I'll be getting off here, though. Jets can be tracked, but not if I sit around eating ice cream all night." She pushes open one of the airship's windows, letting a gust of cold air into the room. "I'd wish you and your family health, Kilroy, but it's going to come across as really insincere when I choke your father to death on a white-hot rod of plutonium." She leaps through the window, already shifting into the form of a great bird of prey.

[Heromux[ Genosha Plots - First Batch

The following is a list of potential plot ideas re: Genosha.

In NYC

*Protests from Genoshan sline expatriots outside the embassy turn nasty when a brotherhood bomb kills many of them and they rush the embassy en masse.  The embassy defends itself using high tech, but then the US takes umbridge at having such weapons unsanctioned on its soil.

*Pressure comes in the US congress to get the executive to declare the US's economic interest zone to all territory around Genosha to force it to leave.  A public town hall debate between Magneto and a US politician could be even more interesting as anyone intelligent makes the politician look bad, who then plays up to the sline crowd to get them to be even MORE hostile toward Genosha.

*Protests from Fishermen from Long Island who have lost fishing rights.  These could also go violent or have violence attempted and have it stop.

*A mass effort by Mutant Town members to try to get to Genosha and a better life but Genosha has to deal with the logistics of moving the people to area and building housing for all of them.

*Some of the Genetic experimental animals created by the previous regime begin to get loose from Genosha and wreak havok in NYC.

In Genosha
*A legitimate group (as in, conforming to all existing policies etc) within Genosha begins to ask for political reform and a constitution as well as free speech.  A counter group begins to push for this group to be suppressed, starting with a town hall meeting but moving beyond it.  The angels don't detect anything since both groups are totally loyal to Genosha.

*A local Genoshan crime syndicate figures out a psi shield hack that bypasses the angels.  This opens all kinds of possibilities since a) They would still keep getting caught and have no idea why...and begin to investigate and find loopholes.  b) The psi shield gets loose and various intelligence agencies try inserting agents...and still keep getting caught within 2-3 days and still have no idea why, also looking for loopholes.

*Same genetic experiments from Sinister and Moreau mentioned above start causing a larger and larger problem inside of the Genoshan ecosystem; large predators for combat but smaller or more nasty vermin that just make life annoying like eating electrical wire cause problems.

*The Perator and the Pauper - Magneto poses as a low level immigrant with a minor power to find flaws in the system...and finds them in a close personal way.

*Gladitorial Games - The experiments with the military economy seem to be working but despite Kilroy's efforts to purge the system of Apocalyptian bloodthirst and Kryptonian arrogance, the nature of the math and the system causes the games to become more and more bloodthirsty.  Changes are required BUT...the games prove to be very popular with the people, more popular than other ideas.

*Factional Crisis - As the Ex Patriot Refugees from the US, Ukraine, Serbia and various other factions begin to increase in numbers, native Genoshan mutants begin to feel resentment causing tension in ways that a mere suppression of violence cannot prevent.  Factions can also emerge between the Omegas/Alphas and less powerful mutants, especially if the less powerful are lead by a highly charismatic leader bent on changing the system.

*A telepathic parasite begins to infect the angels, using them for its own ends.

[Heromux] 2014.06.30 - A Parliament of Parliaments

A Parliament of Parliaments

Summary: Kilroy is given a warning and a stricture.

Location: Central Park

Date: 2014.06.30

Emitter: Kilroy Capital Conneticut

Players: Kilroy Capital Conneticut, Victor von Doom

NPCs: Animal Man, Poison Ivy, Swamp Thing, Solomon Grundy

Groups: Magic and Mysticism

Tone: Gritty

Rating: Public

Pale blue light approaches Central Park on a rapid descent, filling the air above it with the low, droning hum of gravimetric propulsion. Rather than jets, the descending craft - which seems to resemble a stealth bomber in all other respects, with its roughly triangular body and broad wingspan - casts that eerie, persistent light across the ground beneath itself. Most of its wings, as well as its nose and parts of its tail are dark green; the rest is gunmetal gray, with black or green accents here or there; there is no discernible cockpit.
Despite the loud, shiny spectacle of it all, though, its arrival in Manhattan is unlikely to draw much attention, due to the Ubiquity Engine incorporated into its design; mystically sensitive souls in the vicinity might experience a bad dream or two tonight, but otherwise, one would need to have already been looking for the craft to recognize it as anything particularly out of the ordinary--or else have the arcane resources and know-how to peel away the illusions wrapped around it.
Those below probably fall into one or both categories; fortunately, Doom wants them to know that he's coming. Rather touch down, though - the Engine can't do a thing to cover up the evidence of a landing - the craft stops about ten feet off of the ground, its glowing underbelly fading as its propulsion system is set to idle. A segment near the front slides back along barely visible seams, and after climbing outside, the Lord of Latveria makes the rest of the descent himself with his arms folded over his chest and his cape fluttering around his body. The cold blue light shining from the soles of his boots is identical to the one gently bathing him as he nears the ground.
Attend a mystical council and speak for their Parliament, the spirits begged. Be their voice, they pleaded; when it came down to it, he agreed not for the favors they swore to offer him in turn, but for the opportunity to learn things that he imagines few mortals have. Ultimately, while he's here on behalf of the Steel, it's Doom that he represents--just as always.
The veil parts and before Doom is a cacophony of spirits, some giant as the trees, some small wisps that tilt in among the needles of pines. There are all manner of spirits here, for such an event occurs but once in a thousand years, and they most of them do not like each other. Air spirits near fire spirits, the green and the red, animal spirits near tree spirits. All of them avoid the Time Spirits, those who enforce the peace here, no combat of any kind. They are nervous and excited. Deals are made and broken here. Alliances are shifted and some are simply thrilled to be here. There are not any spirits of Steel here, since many are affiliated with a force that is designed to destroy and kill them. They hate technology and are cowed by Doom. They know who he is. Almost all spirits had some tapping into certain channels of information and Doom was known. Quite well. They still seemed to be waiting for someone. And there was another class of spirits not at all here this evening....but Doom wouldn't immediately know that looking about.
As the lone representative of 'his' Parliament, Doctor Doom's first action upon arrival is setting his systems to scan for familiar - whether from personal experience or study - presences and cross-reference them with his database so that he can be fed relevant bits of information about them as necessary. Once that's seen to, he commences mingling.
Of course, what Doctor Doom might consider 'mingling', others might consider 'eavesdropping' or 'strategic meddling'. It really amounts to taking a lap of the congregation while remaining as unobtrusive as his--unique--presence will allow him to, unless/until he spots an opportunity to into slip into some conversation with a carefully chosen words of support, or pick off an unoccupied being to offer greetings or advice. He maintains an icy ambivalence all the while, allowing his fearsome reputation to set the tone for his interactions without resorting to implications of violence.
Unlike the other attendees, he doesn't ignore the Time Spirits, even if they aren't his first destination; instead, he waits until he's completed most of a circuit through the gathering before approaching one of them with a firm, respectful nod. His sensor array draws a number of reticles over its form as he offers, "I have dedicated years - subjectively, of course - to studying the--unique mysteries of your ilk," and tries to take some prelimary readings for later. "It has made for an illuminating distraction from the day to day challenges of rulership."
With Doom's gear, assessing the spirits isn't impossible. Having said that there are some spirits that seem harder to nail down on the first pass, which doesn't mean that the suit isn't still trying of course. The more powerful spirits seem to be Swamp Thing in the Green, a giant Orange spirit of some kind he doesn't know the name of, a Black whispering thing and a fairy of some kind. He's got all kinds of possibilities here and his instincts tell him that there are literally worlds of possibilities.
Chronar, the time spirit, is surprised at Dooms approach and nods respectfully, "I am Chronar. I am a spirit of time. Mortals are studied by us just as much if not more so. Rulership is a challenge. What do you find more important...fear...or success?"
"Fear is a catalyst," Doom muses as he crosses his arms over his chest again, "for those strong enough to overcome it, it is the fire that drives great men - great leaders - forever forward, towards a better future for their people; what could a ruler who has never known the fear of losing that with is most important to them ever hope to achieve? What is use is success if all that it brings is an endless procession of mediocrity? Separately, they are ideas with little, if any value; it is the will and determination of a leader willing to forge his fears into glorious triumph that lends either of them any importance to speak of."
After answering, the Doctor allows himself a small smile beneath the grill of his mask, and as he cants his head curiously to one side, he tacks on, "But then, you've had the luxury of being able to study all of the great leaders who have, or ever will be; I doubt that these are new revelations for you." Turning aside from Chronar to look out over some of the rest of the gathering, he then wonders, "These others--they represent the underlying forces and ideals of existence, just as your kind do. But you aren't like them: perhaps the others have cause to debate and discuss their place in the universe, but what would any of the others be without the framework that your kind provides? What keeps you here among them, rather than above them?"
"Some of them exist outside of time. Time is a framework, but it is not the only frame work. Your answer is an acceptable one. We applaud your insight." Chronar seems amused and intrigued by Doom's forthrightness. "Four questions of your future you may ask. You have solved the riddle well." Doom can recall in his studies that among spirits, riddles, even open questions can be a game, if not the only game, that interests them. Time Spirits aren't mentioned a lot, but Doom's instincts that they're hideously powerful is the right one.
The veil pierces again, and a guy dressed up in armor made up of dollar bills, paper currency and coins walks in. Conversation stops and there are some whispers among the time spirits, but the more powerful spirits don't seem as concerned. No one seems to be speaking to the newcomer.
"Of course," Doom replies as if he earns favors from chronal spirits on a daily basis. "Once our business here is concluded, we will speak again."
The Doctor turns his attention towards the currency-clad newcomer, and after subjecting him to the same round of scanning his database for info, then scanning him for data as the other attendees, he unfurls his arms and leaves Chronar to approach the latest arrival himself, since nobody else is.
"This last decade must have been an--interesting one for you," he muses. "Soaring victories and bitter failures, rising fortunes and broken dreams; I never had the opportunity to know your predecessor, but I studied him. You must be proud, coming into your power in an era nearly as tumultuous as his."
"Of course," Doom replies as if he earns favors from chronal spirits on a daily basis. "Once our business here is concluded, we will speak again."
The Doctor turns his attention towards the currency-clad newcomer, and after subjecting him to the same round of scanning his database for info, then scanning him for data as the other attendees, he unfurls his arms and leaves Chronus to approach the latest arrival himself, since nobody else is.
"This last decade must have been an--interesting one for you," he muses. "Soaring victories and bitter failures, rising fortunes and broken dreams; I never had the opportunity to know your predecessor, but I studied him. You must be proud, coming into your power in an era nearly as tumultuous as his."
Kilroy is, of course, overwhelmed by the whole thing. He's a Shepard of spirits among other things, so when they beg with him, plead with him, to attend some event he's never even heard of before, he's not going to refuse, but it seems like there are hundreds, maybe thousands of spirits here, and none of them wants anything to do with him. He recognizes Solomon Grundy and Poison Ivy. Animal Man and Swamp Thing are unknown to him but he SURE knows Doctor Doom.
"I....er...uh..." He considers how to respond to this, "I...have had a lot of cleaning up to do yes. Er...your Excellence? I'm terribly sorry I don't know your title." Etiquette is important, especially at a place like this. He still doesn't know the reason he's here though. Ivy he could maybe understand. Grundy? But Doom has him floored. He didn't even know the guy knew magic.
"Doctor," he supplies after letting Kilroy fumble for it. "Though 'Excellence' is acceptable." And accurate, he comes just short of actually saying; the implication is there in his tone, though. "I have spared Latveria from the worst of the rest of the world's greed, but even she must contend with the strictures that it has imposed--for now. You've a challenging campaign ahead of you, if you really wish to change things elsewhere, though; I fear that the other leaders of the world lack my capacity for foresight."
Animal Man, Ivy, and Grundy's presences were noted early on, but trying to probe the other, more exotic attendees seemed a little more important than trying to make small talk with heroes and villains. Or Solomon Grundy; just about anything would seem more important than that. He did find an opportunity to mention Latveria's progressive environmental programs in Swamp Thing's presence, though, even if he didn't make much of an effort to sustain a conversation with the elemental beyond that. Kilroy might not register either, if it wasn't for his newness; that alone is unique enough to merit some attention, though.
"Speaking of fear," he adds, taking another step towards Kilroy so that he can lean in and lower his voice, "it is a wholly appropriate response to my presence, but you will want to contain yourself, if you are at all capable of it: you are surrounded by beings utterly unlike you, with no particular motivation to sympathize with newcomers of any kind, much less mortal ones. Do not show weakness; you are not what you were before crossing the veil, but the embodiment of something far greater."
It's odd really, but of all the people who could have spoken to Kilroy at that point in time, Doom's advice is perhaps the right one. Kilroy is an intuitive man, and nods, "You know what Doctor? You are right." Kilroy calms himself. He might not be that much himself, but his ally can be a counter to anyone here. "There is too much greed in the world Doctor, but I unlike many do know you care for your people, better than most. I can sense the ebb and flow, and especially given your choices of defense and administration, your people are fed, and secure. Indeed, I find it laughably ironic that the least of your people is better in many ways than more so called 'progressive' nations..." Doom would note that there...perceptive as he is, that Kilroy is not his grandfather and while no friend of tyranny, the note of Greed hit home. Strongly.
He looks at Chonar and says,"The Gold is arrived."
A staff is struck into the ground and everyone, even the powerful go silent. "The Parliament of Parliaments is called to order. We are here because of the Surge. Once in a thousand years, a magical surge comes, disrupting the natural order. Last it was the Red affixed the plague, and before it was the Black with death coming and going as it would. And before that it was the white, and before that the Green with the coming of the Grey."
Solomon Grundy and some fungi spirits frown, no one speaks to them or cares."
"You are here to hear witness. Council and instructions from your betters New Jersey." Connecticut, but Kilroy understands how a spirit might miss that. "You are here. You are being summoned and are summoned and will be summoned. Are there any who would speak?"
Doom smiles to himself when Kilroy finally announces his arrival, but he respects the sanctity of the gathering by staying quiet when it's called to order. Mostly, he preferred not to see one of the only other humans in attendance make himself vulnerable with his uncertainty--at least, not to anyone but him; now that that's settled, he's perfectly content to listen and observe.
That is, until the floor is opened. Once it is, he wastes little time in noting, "Without knowing what it is that has befallen - or will befall - the Gold, how can we advise its representative? I am sure that the eldest among you have countless millennium of wisdom to share with him, but all of it is for naught without knowing what this Surge means, in context."
Doom smiles to himself when Kilroy finally announces his arrival, but he respects the sanctity of the gathering by staying quiet when it's called to order. Mostly, he preferred not to see one of the only other humans in attendance make himself vulnerable with his uncertainty--at least, not to anyone but him; now that that's settled, he's perfectly content to listen and observe.
That is, until the floor is opened. Once it is, he wastes little time in noting, "Without knowing what it is that has befallen - or will befall - the Gold, how can we advise its representative? I am sure that the eldest among you have countless millennia of wisdom to share with him, but all of it is for naught without knowing what this Surge means, in context."
The silence that emits for several moments is finally stops with Chronar looking at Doom and then looking at Kilroy, "The Surge is always manifested in a different form. None of us knows what it will be. It will seem like a gift of tremendous power but will come at tremendous cost. Before we understood it, the poorest choices among us would receive it. Now, we let each parliament take their turn with the burden and opportunity and choose their representative. There can be no preparation but the experiences of others."
"In that case," the Doctor says, turning in place to face the other members of the gathering as he speaks, "my advice is simple: when this curse wrapped in a blessing comes, embrace it--whatever it may one day cost you." He eventually comes to face Kilroy again, now with intently narrowed eyes visible through the slits in his mask.
"Glean all that you can from it and whatever follows," he continues, the electric rumble of his voice filling the clearing, "so that if you manage to survive your tribulation, you will be stronger for it. There is no value, no nobility in survival merely for the sake of it; let the coming storm wash over you and strip away that which is unworthy. If anything at all remains when it has passed, then your suffering will not have been in vain. If not... well. You are not the first of your line; surely, you will not be the last."
Animal Man, being a hero, speaks for the Red. "The Plague was bad business. I'd say skip this thing but you can't do that. So I'd say...use it as little as you can. Pretty much the opposite of what Doom here says. It might not seem like it but it's bad business."
"The last time the barriers of death were lessened, the world was turned upside down and a cancer was unleashed upon the world that swept all belief in the fantastic to the darkest corners of the world. The gift in this case was unconscious and could not be controlled. We sympathize with you, but offer no council."
The White speaks and says, "We consider enough of a blessing. The one called 'doom' is right. Embrace the gift.'
Poison Ivy looks at Swamp Thing and then at Grundy, "The Green has nothing to say."
Chronar looks annoyed at this but shrugs. "The strictures are simple. Keep it from affecting us. Mankind may be swamped but good or ill the effects are your own. If you breach this protocol, there will be consequences, do you understand?"
Kilroy still has a million questions. But the desire to avoid a face of fear makes him reconsider. "Yeah I understand." Not the most noble of words but he's not feeling thrilled about this. He wished they'd told him more. He would have words with a few of them later. A lot of words.
"Then we are done." And with that, just that quickly, the once in a thousand year event begins to unravel. Some spirits leave immediately, some linger for a bit in curious or cunning conversation.
Doom manages to resist the urge to shoot Animal Man a baleful look when he's called out; instead, he makes a barely perceptible gesture with his right ring finger that creates a file named 'ANIMAL MAN', which then begins collecting relevant references to the hero from Latveria's databanks, for later use.
It won't do anything about being slighted in the moment, but there's nothing wrong with laying the groundwork for a potential revenge scheme early.
When the gathering concludes, he turns fully towards Kilroy once more and offers, "When the time comes - when you have received your gift - find me," keeping his voice low enough that the Spirit of Capitalism should be the only one able to hear it. "Your burden will ultimately be yours to shoulder, but perhaps I'll be able to offer some guidance on how best to hold it; tonight was not the best night for advice, but I heard no rules forbidding you from receiving more."
Kilroy's not even sure WHAT to say to that, except, "Thank you Doctor. If I know what it is and its mobile, I'll let you know. There don't seem to be a lot of rules but if the Steel doesn't object to it, then I'll potentially take you up on that offer."
As the spirits vanish into the night one by one, Kilroy nods to Doom, "I shall consider doing that..."
And with that...the night is still.